


It Takes Practice

by rayvanfox



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Everyone Is Poly Because Avengers, Multi, Polyamory, Polyamory Negotiations
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-27
Updated: 2015-08-27
Packaged: 2018-04-17 13:55:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,669
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4669100
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rayvanfox/pseuds/rayvanfox
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When it comes to Steve and Natasha, Bucky knows where he's been, and where he is. But fuck if he knows where he's going.<br/>Good thing <i>somebody</i> seems to.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It Takes Practice

**Author's Note:**

> For MsAether and Prosthetical.

“Nat says everyone needs to practice,” Steve said out of the blue one afternoon when he and Bucky were lounging on the couch.

Bucky looked up from his book — he was still reading everything he could get his hands on about the sixties and seventies — and blinked. He closed the book and made a move as if to take his feet off Steve’s lap. “What now, more team building exercises? We can check the schedule for the sparring room.”

“No.” Steve was looking down at his hands on Bucky’s ankles, not letting go or moving to get up. His ears were an alarming shade of pink. “With, um... stuff like kissing.”

_Kissing?_ That was the last thing Bucky expected to hear Steve talk about. Ever. When Bucky’s memories had started to settle and sort themselves out — what ones he had left — he decided that there was no way he and Steve had ever talked about what they used to do together. And at this point they never would.

Because things had changed, allegiances had shifted since they were young, and the world Bucky had come back to was one where he and Tasha were finding their way back to the intimacy they’d shared and Steve and Sam’s blossoming relationship was possibly the cutest thing to have ever existed. Tasha started to call them the Rom-Com, and it had become a running joke.

“Isn’t that what Sam is for?” Bucky nudged Steve with a heel in a teasing way, hoping to keep things light. For as dark as the Winter Soldier had been, Bucky was now trying to revert back to his sunny disposition — or at least closer to it.

Steve didn’t let go of Bucky’s ankle, and offered a smile, but it only ended up hiking one side of his mouth upwards. That half-smile was usually one of Bucky’s favorite things, but when Steve’s eyes didn’t follow suit with any hint of mirth, Bucky frowned, confused. “What’s the matter? Have you guys hit a rough patch?”

“No,” Steve said quickly. “I just... practice makes perfect, right? And Sam deserves perfect.” He glanced up at Bucky, then looked bashfully down again, the swoop of his eyelashes so dramatic and pinup-like that Bucky bit his lip in want.

“You’re not wrong about that,” Bucky agreed. Sam was a good guy — one of the best they’d ever known — but Bucky was unsure of why Steve was bringing all of this up with him. It wasn’t like they’d never talked about dames back in the day, but this felt different. Weighted. “Wait, are you asking me if you can practice with Tasha? Because she’d kick your ass for even asking, let alone what she’d do to me if she thought I gave my _permission._ ”

Steve was shaking his head and smiling. “Hell no. She doesn’t have the patience for that sort of thing. Besides, she’d make me nervous.” Bucky laughed at the little dramatic shiver Steve gave. Of course Tasha would play with the power dynamic there, it was just so tempting... _No, none of that, Barnes._

“Then what?” Bucky asked, trying to ignore the way Steve was circling his anklebone with the pad of a thumb.

“Do you think Nat would mind if I... borrowed you for bit?” Steve didn’t look up as his voice got soft, almost husky. “It’s been a long time since we practiced.”

Bucky stopped breathing. That was what they’d called it, way back when. He’d completely forgotten, even though it had been his idea to begin with — using theoretical dames who would be up for some necking as an excuse for the two of them to touch and taste in ways that weren’t allowed. Bucky had wanted that to be real so badly, but back before the war Steve had insisted on taking the excuse at face value and ignoring any of Bucky’s advances or flirtations past what could be seen as friendship.

And now it was Bucky’s turn to do just the same. This was a favor for Steve — and Sam in the long run — and whatever pleasure Bucky got out of it needed to stay within that boundary.  
“Sure, if you want. If you don’t think Sam will...”

Steve shook his head. “He laughed and said he wants to see me in top form. So, as long as you think Nat won’t...”

Bucky chuckled and sat up to set his book on the coffee table. “She won’t gut you, don’t worry. She’s possessive but not territorial.” Steve frowned in incomprehension, so Bucky tried again. “She’s made it clear that I’m hers, but not _only_ hers. And she’s free to do whatever — or whoever — she wants.”

Steve blinked, eyebrows high. “And that works?”

“So far,” Bucky said with a soft, apologetic smile. “I honestly don’t think it would work any other way. We’d both feel trapped.”

Nodding as if he understood, Steve hummed in agreement. Bucky was sure Steve was way too loyal to truly get it, but at least he knew when to give his friends space, which was his greatest asset as a teammate to any and all of the Avengers.

“So...” Steve’s smile blossomed in his voice, but Bucky could detect a hint of nerves. “You wanna show me how it’s done?”

“I’m sure you just need a reminder, Stevo.” Bucky grinned wide as he leaned in, aiming his nose to brush against the hinge of Steve’s jaw.

“Maybe...” Steve’s shoulder jumped slightly but didn’t block Bucky’s path. “Can we take it slow?”

“Mhmm...” Bucky exhaled onto Steve’s neck and watched him shiver, delighted. “Whatever you want, Captain. This is your show; I’m just here to help.”

“Right. Yeah, okay.” Steve took a deep breath and let it out fast. “Just... tell me if this is okay.” He turned and grazed his lips over Bucky’s temple, his cheekbone, brushed their noses together briefly before the softest press of his lips set Bucky on fire.

He pressed close and kissed back, a bit too forcefully, then remembered he wasn’t supposed to engage, but receive. He pulled back slightly and breathed a “Sorry” into Steve’s mouth.

“For what?” Steve asked, his mouth now open and those full lips ripe for the taking. Way too tempting to let the moment pass.

“For this.” Bucky claimed Steve’s bottom lip with both of his own and couldn’t stop the sound of pleasure that welled up in his throat. Not that he wanted to stop it, knowing somehow that it would make Steve rumble deep in his chest and respond with much more fervor.

The familiar, driving passion of their kiss caused a rush of emotions and memories to wash over Bucky and he was drowning — falling slowly through something that supported as it smothered. He lost hold of everything, and found himself all at once. _Danger._

“Enough.”

Steve froze, his breath heavy. “Buck?”

“You’re good.” Bucky pressed lightly against Steve’s chest as he backed off and caught his breath. _Mission focus. Report._ “Feels like it always did. You’ll do fine.”

Licking his lips then pressing them together, Steve nodded and looked down. His brow was furrowed. “Okay, thanks.” He took another deep breath and sighed. “Sorry.”

“It’s fine, Steve. You’re good at this.” Probably too good. That, or Bucky had forgotten how much he liked kissing Steve. Another thing he hadn’t even thought to miss.

“You sure it’s not you who’s good?” Steve’s cheeks were dusky pink and he was still looking down, his eyelashes splayed across his cheekbones. In this light they looked stupidly long and lush.  
Bucky had to tear his eyes away and stare at the armchair across the room to keep focus on the conversation.

“Nah. I’m just okay. Ask Tasha. But don’t let her mess with your confidence. Sam’s a lucky guy.”

“Maybe at some point.” Steve blinked slowly and looked up at him. “I figure I’ll get better with more practice.”

“Yeah,” Bucky said, his skin suddenly hot at the idea of Steve and Sam doing, well, _anything._ He couldn’t keep still and he had the irrational desire to go to the gun range. “Have fun with that. I gotta...” He got up off the couch and headed for the door, wondering if Tasha would be up for a bit of private ‘sparring’ tonight.

 

—

 

A few nights later Bucky was reading on the couch again, this time with his head resting on Tasha’s thigh. His knees were bent so his feet were braced on the far armrest, and he jumped and almost rolled away when Steve clambered up to sit on the back of the couch. Steve touched Bucky's knee to keep him in place, then tucking his own feet under the arch of Bucky’s legs. Tasha tilted her head to rest against the back cushion and smirked up at Steve.

“Hey,” She said lazily with a latent question in her voice.

Steve reached out and brushed his hand over her hair, so lightly Bucky wondered if she could feel it. He was mesmerized by watching the two of them interact in a way that felt intimate. Had the three of them ever been in such close proximity outside of battle or sparring? He was pretty sure they hadn’t, but he found it calmed him more than the spa day Tasha had insisted on a few months ago to get him to unwind.

“Steve,” Bucky said by way of acknowledgment, having no idea why he’d joined them, but glad he was here.

“Where’s your man?” Tasha asked, with only a hint of teasing in her voice. She seemed quite contented to have Steve so close. Was this normal for them? Bucky hadn’t thought to notice.

“D.C. Something with Tony and Rhodey and the Pentagon. I didn’t ask.”

She reached up, her arm forming a graceful arc in the air between them, her fingers reaching out for nothing in particular. He bent over into the circle of her grasp, until the tip of his nose touched her hairline. “That the new shampoo?” he murmured. She hummed an affirmative. “Smells nice.”

She smiled as Steve straightened up, and let her hand slide easily off his shoulder, back down to rest on Bucky’s chest. Its warmth made him shiver, not knowing whose body heat he felt.

“Didn’t mean to interrupt,” Steve added, looking down at the books they were ignoring.

“You’re fine,” Tasha assured him just before Bucky said, “Join us.”

Steve gave him that charming Rogers half-smile, and slid down the cushion to sit on the couch seat under Bucky’s propped-up legs. For a moment it seemed ridiculous to be lying down between the two of them, draped over their legs like a blanket, but the comfort it gave him outweighed any awkwardness, and he closed his eyes to concentrate on the feel of their bodies against his.

They were his people — his closest friends. The two out of everyone that Bucky had the most shared history with, and the two he trusted the most. And more importantly at that moment, they were the two people he had the most physical intimacy with, so for the first time in a long time, he didn’t feel crowded with more than one person near him.

Steve had just settled in when he started to chuckle ruefully. Tasha stretched her arm across the back of the couch so her fingers could brush his shoulder, and Bucky looked up from his book with his eyebrows raised in a question. “I didn’t grab a book of my own, but I’m too comfortable to move,” Steve said as he rested his hand on the top of Bucky’s bare foot.

“I could read to you both from mine,” Tasha said, her characteristic sarcasm at its lowest level. She was serious.

“What is it?” Steve asked. The cover was in plain sight, but it was a new release, and Steve wouldn’t have heard of it.

“Dystopian Young Adult Fiction. Strong female lead — an archer. Clint swears she’s a cross between him and me. It’s actually not bad so far.” Her gorgeous lips quirked into a sly pucker, and Bucky couldn’t help licking his own in response.

“Sure, why not?” Steve smiled and nudged Bucky’s thigh. “You don’t mind taking a break from Watergate, do you?”

“Woodstock. I already know more about Watergate than anyone.” Bucky kept a straight face as Steve’s eyebrows raised, betraying his surprise, and Tasha’s silence and stillness implied the same. “I’ve read like seven books on it.”

They both huffed in amusement and Tasha felt the need to add, “Well, they could have been lying about who Deep Throat was. Care to share your secret?”

With an absolutely straight face, Steve said, “I hear it’s something to do with well-timed breaths.”

Complete silence filled the room for two heartbeats, then both Bucky and Tasha howled with laughter. “And suppressing the gag reflex,” Tasha said. “I can show you how it’s done, if you want.” She was still laughing, and Steve’s face was dusted with pink, but his eyes were bright as he looked at her.

Bucky offered, “I can leave if you two need —”

“Hell no, Barnes. You’ll be my subject so Rogers can concentrate on his lesson.”

“You want him to watch us?” Tasha’s eyebrow arched at Bucky’s question, and he couldn’t tell if she was bluffing or not. He felt a bit dizzy. Steve cleared his throat, drawing Bucky’s gaze to him. The blush was still there, but no deep discomfort showed on his face. _Bluff. It had to be._

Bucky sighed. “Not tonight, kids.”

Something in the room deflated and Bucky couldn’t miss the look that passed between Steve and Tasha. _Had they really meant it?_

“Another time, then,” Tasha said as she flipped back to the front of her book. In an even-toned and highly narrative voice, she started to read to them from the beginning, and Steve leaned sideways until he could rest his head on Bucky’s chest. Tasha’s fingers found their way into Bucky’s hair, and he relaxed into the casual intimacy of the moment. He gave up on trying to follow the story, concentrating instead on savoring the comfort — and the potential — of being so close with his two closest friends.

 

—

 

By the beginning of the next week, Bucky wondered if he needed to stop reading in the common room, because Sam walked over and stood at the end of the couch until Bucky looked up from his book.

“Hey, Sam. What’s up?”

“I just made a big pot of chili, you want some?”

Bucky blinked, then registered the delicious scent in the air. It had come upon him so gradually and he had been so absorbed in reading about the Summer of Love, he hadn’t noticed. Now his stomach rumbled.

“Yeah? Thanks.” He made to get up and follow Sam into the kitchen, but Sam held up a hand.

“I got it. Be right back.”

Good as his word, in under a minute he was carrying two full bowls with shredded cheese on top, spoons, and a bag of oyster crackers.

He set everything on the coffee table and held up one finger. “Beer? It always tastes better with a brew.” Bucky nodded and Sam disappeared only to return a moment later with two bottles.

As he sat up to accept one, Bucky ventured, “Thanks, Sam. You didn’t need to go to all this—”

“Not a problem. I like cooking. And I guess it’s still too early for anyone else to be home for dinner.”

Bucky glanced at the clock on one of the entertainment system displays. Steve and Tasha were with the new recruits for another couple hours at least, and who knew what sort of hours Stark and Banner were keeping these days. “Yeah, I guess. You usually train with the team, don’t you?”

“Yeah. Took the afternoon off because I landed funny this morning and didn’t wanna strain the injury.” Sam was dropping oyster crackers into his chili one by one, making a smiley face pattern, and definitely not looking at Bucky.

_Lies._ Bucky didn’t call Sam out on the falsehood, but it made him wonder. “Right. Wish you could get your boyfriend to take a break like that once in a while.” He hadn’t meant to bring up Steve, but no one ignored his injuries more — even if he did heal like lightning.

“Man doesn’t need a break. He’s made of rubber and kevlar. Nothing stops him, and he bounces right back.” Sam shook his head as he smiled. Bucky recognized the feeling.

“Man’s a fucking idiot, Sam. He’ll get himself killed one day with his stupidity. Thinks he’s immortal just because he slept in the ice for seven decades.” Bucky stabbed his spoon into his chili and then almost burnt his mouth on his first bite.

“Nah, it’s your girlfriend who’ll get him killed from egging him on to do some damned ridiculous stunts. Those two fools...”

“I _know._ It’s like they’re missing the self-preservation gene or something. Fucking assholes.”

“You know, maybe we should go on strike until they listen to reason and promise to exercise some caution.” Sam picked up his beer and took a long pull on the bottle.

Bucky watched his throat work up and down before coming up with an answer. “If we didn’t help out, they’d just be in even more trouble.”

“No, I mean a different kind of strike,” Sam said, his moistened lips less than an inch from the bottle rim.

“What, like... in the bedroom?” Bucky felt weird even talking _around_ this with Sam, especially because he must know that Steve and Bucky were still really close. Confusingly close, these days.

Sam set down his bottle and concentrated on fishing a couple oyster crackers out of his chili. “Yeah. Might work.”

“Except it’s just as much punishment for us as it is for them.” Could Bucky handle not sleeping with Tasha for however long it took them to get their heads out of their asses? It wasn’t even about the sex so much as the animal comfort of her body. He’d gotten used to it a lot quicker than he’d expected.

“Possibly,” Sam drew out the word equivocally. “Though I’m guessing we could speed up the process if we made them jealous...”

“Tasha doesn’t get jealous.” The words were out of his mouth before he’d fully grasped what Sam was implying. He felt his face heat up, flattered but confused that Sam might be interested. He tried not to dwell on it, for Steve’s sake. “Besides, what would keep them from indulging in each other and telling us to fuck off?”

Sam looked over at Bucky with a sly smile. “Nothing. But Steve agreed I could watch if he and Nat got together, so it wouldn’t be a total loss.”

“She okayed that?” Bucky sounded incredulous, but he could easily believe it — especially with two people as gorgeous as Steve and Sam.

“Yeah. In a theoretical sense. They haven’t really... Well, I assume you know.” Sam gestured vaguely with his spoon.

“I don’t ask for details. She doesn’t tell me anything unless she wants to.” Bucky paused for a moment to take a swig of beer. The hops slid along the sides of his tongue. “Though I’m guessing she’d want to tell me about Steve. We used to compare notes about lovers.” The bittersweet memory of those sessions came back to him sharply and sped up his heartbeat.

“Right. Lovers. So you and Steve...” Sam reached for his beer again and leaned back into the couch cushions.

“Not anymore. And we didn’t call it that. We used to ‘practice’ a lot as kids. Then at some point during the war it was ‘tiding us over’ until we could get back to base. I dunno. It was stupid. I loved it. I never asked him if he did.”

Fragments of memories flipped across Bucky’s mind’s eye: stolen moments in his bedroom at home, furtive, back alley touches, quickies in the barracks latrines, sharing bed rolls out on missions, the press of Steve’s body against him in a narrow bed — his bony back as the inside spoon, taking up no room at all, and later his muscle-bound torso crowding Bucky out.

Sam’s voice stopped the newsreel-like progression of images. “He did. He does.”

Bucky looked over in consternation. Had he made the adorable thing Steve and Sam had fall apart just by not staying away? _Shit._ “I’m sorry, Sam. I’m not trying to—”

“No worries, man. We’re cool. He and I went into this knowing what was up.”

_What_ was _up?_ Bucky couldn’t bring himself to ask. “Maybe Tasha and I are a bad influence.”

“Now, I wouldn’t say that.” Sam smiled and leaned over to nudge Bucky’s shoulder with his own. It felt good — comfortable — and Bucky nudged back. “You seem to understand each other pretty well.”

“I hope so. We’ve been doing this for years and years.” It was mostly true. They’d first come together a long time ago, but the trust they had formed went deeper than anything in his life as the Winter Soldier. She’d been a part of him no matter how many times he’d been wiped and frozen, and cryo dreams kept everything that was important recurring, familiar. She’d been with him all along, just like Steve, and Bucky had remembered them both as soon as he’d remembered himself.

“Well I know I’m new to the party, but I think I get it.” Sam’s voice was mild and sincere, but he didn’t sound patronizingly ‘understanding’ even with his counselor training. Bucky surprised himself with how much he trusted Sam.

“Thanks,” Bucky said with a little smile. “I wish I did.”

“I hear that. It’s complicated,” Sam said agreeably. Then he pointed at Bucky with his spoon and, in mock sternness, said, “Now finish your damned chili before it gets cold.”

 

—

 

The next night, Bucky didn’t even get a chance to pick up his book before Tasha took his hand and tugged him towards his bedroom.

“Starting early tonight?” he teased.

“There’s a lot on the agenda,” she replied, a mischievous light in her eyes.

The room was candlelit and had Benny Goodman playing quietly on the stereo, and for some reason, just that small amount of preparation made Bucky nervous. Tasha really did have an agenda this evening, and he had no idea what it could be.

But she simply had him sit propped against the headboard, and then she curled up against his side with her head on his shoulder. He relaxed some as he draped his arm around her shoulders.

“James, I know we don’t really talk about stuff, but we’re doing okay, right?”

_Shit._ Had he missed something? An anniversary? A hint that she wanted something else? He tried to breathe deeply and slow his heart rate down. “Yeah? Why wouldn’t we?”

“I just feel like you’re holding back for some reason and I hope it’s not because of me.”

Bucky furrowed his brow, then tucked his chin to try and look at her face. “I don’t... What do you mean?”

She tilted her head up and caught his eye. “You and Steve...”

His heart jumped into his throat. Swallowing, he said, “You know our history. When we had no one else, we sorta...” How could he explain? Steve was so much a part of him at this point there was no distinguishing. “But now with you and Sam —”

“Don’t think about us for a second. What do you want?” She sat up and turned to him, resting her hand lightly over his heart.

_To feel safe._

The two times in his life that had been the most true — no matter the danger — were when he’d been with Steve and Tasha.

“He’s _home,_ Tash. As much as you are. Maybe more.” He winced to admit it to her, but she just nodded, eyes fixed on his.

“You want him.” Her voice was matter-of-fact but understanding.

“I need him, to be myself. Doesn’t have to be sex—”

“But it can be. You know that, right?” She tilted her head as if looking at a curious puzzle.

“You said I could do whatever, I know, but he and Sam—”

“Rogers.” Tasha spoke into her wrist, She must have strapped a commlink there.

_What the fuck?_ “Tasha, come on...”

“It’s fine. Trust me.” She got up and walked to the door where a moment later a knock came.

Steve slipped inside with a sheepish smile and a quiet, “Hey.”

_They’d fucking planned this._ Bucky was going to kill them both.

But then he watched the two of them standing near the bed, looking at him like he’d hung the moon, and he dared for a moment to hope. He stretched out his hands, one to each of them, and they joined him on the bed.

“This would be easier if you were smaller,” Bucky said to Steve. It had been a refrain during the war as they’d both gotten used to his new body.

With an amused huff, Steve said, “No it wouldn’t,” and he buried his face in the crook of Bucky’s neck.

Reveling in the familiar tickle of Steve’s nose, his eyelashes, the scent of his aftershave and sweat, Bucky hummed in pleasure as he stroked Tasha’s hair. “Hmm, maybe not, but what about Sam?”

Steve stopped still and paused before saying, “He’s my _boyfriend,_ Buck.” There was an edge of steel in his voice. A non-negotiable fact.

Bucky smiled softly. “I know. I just meant the bed might not be big enough.”

Tasha chuckled as Steve sat up and stared at him for a long moment. She broke the silence by saying, “Care to find out?”

_Did he?_ Bucky had never imagined wanting anything more than this, but he knew they did. Tasha seemed content with other outlets, but Steve had made his choice, and once his heart — and his loyalty — had attached to someone, he didn’t let go. Bucky had to admit Sam couldn’t be a more worthy object of anyone’s affection, including his own. Hell, he’d seen how Tasha looked at him, too. The man was gorgeous and kind and a damned good fighter, and most importantly, Bucky trusted him.

He nodded, slowly. “Yeah.” Tasha smiled but Steve looked wary. “I can’t promise anything, but I know he should be here.”

“Buck, you don’t have to—”

“I want this, Steve. I want it to work. I don’t have any idea how, but Sam’s a part of it.” Bucky reached out and touched Steve’s cheek, who looked down as if embarrassed, shading his eyes with his lashes. “Come on, baby. What good would it do keeping us separate?”

Steve looked up at him, brow furrowed as if in pain. “I don’t want to hurt you. Nat doesn’t rub it in your face...”

“Maybe she could be more open about it, though?” Bucky glanced at Tasha, who was smirking.

She nodded, saying, “ _And_ I could be persuaded to narrow the field somewhat. Maybe to just two others?” Her voice was insinuation itself, and Bucky grinned to see Steve confused. A moment later, her wrist was at her mouth. “Sam? I need a favor.”

Steve looked pleadingly at Bucky. “We don’t have to—”

“What do you want, Steve?” Bucky looked him in the eye and saw an edge of desperation which scared him. He wrapped his hand around Steve’s nape and pulled him close so their foreheads met. “It’s okay, hon. Just tell me.”

Steve let out a heavy breath and whispered, “Family.”

_Yes._ That was it. Family was safe. Family stuck together. Family was home.

“We can do that, Steve. I promise.”

There were a lot of things Bucky had been unsure of in his long and fucked up life, but when Sam walked through the door with a smile like Christmas and climbed right up on the bed with Bucky and the two people who meant the most to him, the future was not one of them.

**Author's Note:**

> LBR, i couldn't not write the inception of the OT4.  
> this *might* become a series to get everyone's POV involved. (because from this angle sam seems less important, but he's not.)  
> no promises tho.


End file.
